Bitter Taste
by Lynnlee22
Summary: This story is completely AU and is based on the idea that Kevin and Kelly married after leaving town with Zane. Written and dedicated to Daph. ;)
1. Chapter 1

His head throbbed as he struggled to open his eyes. The sunlight sneaking in through the gaps in the curtains made him cringe. Bits and pieces of the night before seemed to drift through his mind, the faces and sounds jumbled together like they'd been throw into a blender.

Kevin struggled to sit up, swallowing hard as another wave of nausea threatened to overtake him. The taste of alcohol and cigarettes lingered on his tongue.

"Kelly," he called out, his voice hoarse, his mouth so dry he could barely speak. Squinting and bringing a hand to his head, he made his way into the kitchen, half expecting to see her sitting there. This was her usual morning after spot. He'd stumble down the stairs and she'd be in the kitchen-sometimes standing by the window, sometimes sitting at the table, but always with coffee, tomato juice, and aspirin...and always with that look.

The first few times, he'd mistaken it for anger, but now he knew better, now he knew the look was more disappointment mixed with fear and hurt. She was too afraid for him, for Zane, for all of them-too afraid to be angry, too tired to yell, too jaded to try to reason with him. She would slide the glass towards him and walk from the room-silently. And then later, after a few hours had passed, after he had sobered up, she'd come back into the room and start talking again, like nothing had ever happened. This...This was how they lived. This was their life.

But Kelly wasn't in the kitchen. Kevin glanced around the room. There was no coffee, no juice, no aspirin-no sign that anyone had been expecting him home at all. Moving towards the sink, he filled a glass with water, fumbling with the bottle of aspirin and swallowing two. His eyes fell on the view of the driveway from the kitchen window. Her car wasn't there.

He felt his heart beat faster as the water threatened to return to his mouth. He made his way out of the kitchen, climbing the stairs quicker than he thought he could. The breath left his lungs in a deep sigh and he closed his eye in relief as he saw her suitcase still sitting on the floor of the master closet. Part of him was afraid she would leave him, the other part knew she never would, and still another part judged her for staying with someone like him.

She could do better-so much better, and she didn't deserve this-this life, this pain, she didn't deserve the way he treated her. Slowly he slid to the ground, vowing for the hundredth time that last night would be the last time, that this time would be different, that the last drink he'd taken would be his last. At the time, he didn't even believe it himself. Then, the phone rang.


	2. Chapter 2

"Can you go any faster?" Kevin leaned forward in the seat, as if the weight of his body would somehow propel the cab faster through the traffic.

"Not if you want to make it there alive," the driver muttered. Kevin Buchanan was a regular. Rumor had it that his driver quit a few months ago after months of late night phone calls and verbal lashings. He wasn't accustomed to cabbies and he clearly resented being lumped in with the rest of society. He heard him sigh and fall back against the seat. One look in the rearview mirror told him the whole story. You can wash your face and change your clothes, but hungover is hungover even cleaned up and dusted off.

"Just hurry," Kevin barked, his voice harsh at first. He took a breath, lowering his shoulders and feeling his throat tighten with regret, "Please," he whispered.

* * *

"Mrs Buchanan, there's a detective here to talk to you. Are you up to answering a few questions?" The nurse turned towards the door, motioning for the female detective to walk inside.

"Just buzz if you need anything," she said quietly, walking from the room.

"Mrs. Buchanan," the detective said, her voice soft and calm as she slid the small stool towards the side of the bed. "My name is Detective Finley and I need to ask you some questions about what happened last night."

She looked over at Kelly, her eyes were fixed on the clock on the wall. She had yet to make eye contact or acknowledge her existence. "Can you do that?" she asked softly.

Kelly nodded, finally forcing herself to look into the woman's eyes. There it was-what she feared-the look of pity. This was the look she'd been avoiding for months. This was why she didn't say anything about the problems in her marriage, about Kevin's drinking, about the trouble with the business, about any of it. She hated the lies, the drinking, the stress, but more than any of it, she hated the idea of being pitied...and now she was...and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

"Can you tell me why you were at the Timbers last night?"

The mere mention of the name seemed to transport her back there and she was walking through the door again. The smell of the smoke-so thick it had almost taken her breath-and the noise, a mix of typical bar tunes and raucous laughter mixed with shouting filled the air. She remembered struggling through the crowds of sloppy drunk men to reach the bar, where she'd leaned towards the bartender. "Already gone," he'd yelled, struggling to be heard above the noise. "About a half hour ago...should be getting home soon."

She'd nodded, and turned.

"Mrs, Buchanan," Detective Finley softly said again, her eyes studying Kelly's face. No matter how many times she had this conversation, she never got used to the way the women reacted. So many of them, regardless of their individual circumstances, were trapped...trapped in their experience...trapped in their own nightmare. Some repeated the events with ease, almost robotic, as if they'd left their emotions somewhere else. Others fell apart, unable to think about the horror they'd endured, and still others seemed to drift somewhere in between the two. That place where even they weren't sure what happened and so it was difficult to tell someone else. This seemed to be where Kelly was.

"I'm sorry," Kelly repeated, turning to look at the detective again. "I was just...thinking."

Detective Finley nodded, patting her arm softly. "It's fine. We don't have to do this now if you're not feeling up to it. I can come back." She moved to stand.

"No," Kelly said, her voice forceful and emotional for the first time since she'd started speaking to the detective. "I can do this. I want to do this." She took a breath. "I came to the Timbers to look for my husband. He wasn't home and I thought..." She shook her head..."I knew that was where he would be."

She nodded, making brief notes in the pad she held in her hands, "And was your husband there?"

Kelly let out a shaky breath. "No...The bartender said he'd already...that he would probably be home soon."

"And then you left?"

"I started to," Kelly began, closing her eye, trying to stop the memories that tried to flood back. She didn't want to see the face-she never wanted to see that face again and yet she feared she would...every time she closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

He ran down the hallway, his eyes falling on the figures inside the rooms. Each person seemed to look worse than the last. The thought of Kelly inside one of those rooms-in one of those beds, it made his heart sink. Nearing the room, he stopped just short of entering, the sound of an unfamiliar voice stopping him.

"What stopped you from leaving," Detective Finley asked gently.

"When I saw my husband wasn't there, I just wanted to get home," Kelly continued, her thoughts returning to the many nights she'd found Kevin passed out in his car in the parking lot. She feared one night the parking lot might not be his stop and she shuddered to think of him on the road.

"But you didn't leave?"

"He stopped me." Kelly blinked, already feeling the sting of tears burning in her eyes. She didn't want to think about this-to remember. She wanted to go home and continue the facade. She'd go on pretending that everything was fine. She'd forget this night. She'd forget this man and what he did.

Detective Finley waited a moment, hoping Kelly might continue on her own without prompting. These were the tough questions. "Did you know him?"

"No," she said softly, "I'd never seen him before. He was just sitting there drinking at the bar and when I turned to go, he grabbed my arm...said I should stay and have a drink with him." Kelly's voice trailed off as her thoughts went back to the night before. The smell of alcohol on his breath had been overwhelming and even his initial grip on her arm had been rough-too rough. She knew-even then that he was dangerous. She wanted to call Kevin, to ask him to come back, to meet her, but she couldn't. Kevin couldn't take care of her. He couldn't even take care of himself.

* * *

Kevin stood outside the door listening silently. It wasn't until he tasted the salty tears as they rolled onto his lips that he realized he'd been crying. He wanted to walk away, to unhear the words he'd already heard. He wanted to forget the fact that he had put his wife here.

The drinking, the fighting, the stress, the pain...all of what he'd been putting her through for months was nothing compared to this. Instinct still told him to enter the room, to take her in his arms, to apologize and cry with her as he vowed to never let anything hurt her ever again, but how could he? How could he do that knowing that he was the one bringing her the most pain.

* * *

"I told him I wasn't interested...that I was married. I didn't do anything to make him think any different..."

"Mrs. Buchanan, none of this is your fault. That's not why I'm here. I just need to get your statement, so that when this goes to trial..."

Kelly's breath caught in her throat. "Trial?"

"Yes. This is a serious crime. This man deserves to be punished for what he did."

"I don't want a trial," she said, her voice serious, almost frantic. "I don't want everyone to know about this. I'm ok. I'll be fine. You arrested him. That's enough."

"Mrs Buchanan," Detective Finley began again.

"No!" Kelly was sitting up now, her voice raised, her face flushed with emotion. "My husband is-his family-they're very well known and I don't want this in the papers and on the news. He has a business to run and he can't afford this kind of..."

"To hell with the business!" Kevin stood inside the door, his eyes wide and shining.

The look on her face told him to come closer and her shaky hand reached out for his as he reached the side of the bed. Even now, even after she'd seen him at his worst, even after all the disappointments and after all the pain, she still needed him, still counted on him. His hand wrapped around hers as his eyes met her gaze.

"The business doesn't matter. Whatever you need, whatever it takes to put this bastard behind bars, that's what we do."

Kelly looked at him. She barely recognized this man-the one that had so much conviction and passion, the one that made her feel safe. This man had been missing from her life for months. As she lay there feeling his hand grasping hers, she realized just how much she'd missed him and just how grateful she was to have him here.

She nodded, grateful to feel Kevin squeeze her hand lightly in support. She turned to Detective Finley, "What else do you need to know?


End file.
